In the Weeds (Lovelight, #2)

by B.K. Borison

But that’s the thing about happiness, I guess. You can show whatever you want to the world and not feel a lick of it inside yourself.

Trying to be happy is like—it’s like telling a flower to bloom.” He crosses his ankles and drags his palm against his stubble. “You can’t make yourself be happy. But you can be open to it. You can trust yourself enough to feel it when you stumble on it.”

“You don’t think a woman can do what a man does?” If looks could kill, I’d be six feet under. “No,” I reply, amused. “A woman can do what a man does and make it look easy.”

Evelyn is like a spring storm. She appears without warning, makes everything around her bloom, and then leaves with the wind.

I didn’t realize falling in love could be so simple. Bacon in a takeout container and earplugs in the bottom of a handbag.

“I got a new job, you know. Down in Durham.” The subject change leaves me grasping. I blink at her, confused. “Durham?” I don’t care if it’s in Antarctica. I’ll buy a parka and learn how to speak penguin.